


animal impulse

by ashinan smut (ashinan)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, Friends With Benefits, Glitter, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Stripper AU, Yeehaw AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan%20smut
Summary: After a set where that mysterious cute farmer shows up again, Shiro's in a bit of a - state. Thankfully, friends help friends out with unexpected boners.





	animal impulse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buffshiro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffshiro/gifts).



> so I've been sick. and that means to not miss work I've been taking lots of cold drugs. and when I take cold drugs I apparently write a lot of porn. like. a lot. it's getting out of hand. anyway, this fic is for [ Tofu](http://tofuloo.tumblr.com/) and their Yeehaw AU series which I found on Twitter and then fell madly in love with because it's amazing and I wanted to show my appreciation through...porn. I guess. and not even of Shiro and Keith fucking but Kinkade and Shiro fucking. gorrammit. did I fail? anyway. huge thanks[ GW](http://gitwrecked.tumblr.com/) for looking over my stuff before I posted it all messy on AO3 like a boob. 
> 
> here you are dahlings Imma go knock myself out with nyquil

Shiro was a professional when it came to his routine. Sure, he got off on the energy thrumming through the club, on the cheers and the rasp of money against his skin and the music thumping like sex in his blood. Sometimes, he allowed himself a quiet moment afterwards to take care of things. Sometimes, he willed it down and just kept going. Sometimes, he found a partner.

The set that night had been all about temptation. Twists of the hip and crooks of the finger, thighs spread and head thrown back, desperation tugging the audience forward. Shiro dropped into a sultry crouch at the edge of the stage, rumbling pleased as someone snapped a twenty under the string of his thong. His body hummed along with the music. He winked, allowed the plush of his bottom lip to pout and quiver, before sauntering back to the pole at center stage.

Spinning, he kicked one heel back before dropping, thighs spread, sweat and glitter catching the light just so. Most of the faces around him were blurred by the lights. Some were regulars; some were out of towners; some were -

_Oh_.

Shiro caught sight of the farmer from before - Kevin? Karl? No, _Keith_ \- with the scar on his cheek and his hat tipped up, gaze electric as it roamed over Shiro’s skin. Warmth pulsed low in Shiro’s stomach. It’d been a few weeks since that first lap dance and he still spent some nights fantasizing about those thighs under his, how Keith’s eyes had burned with want and adoration and a possessiveness that tugged hard at Shiro’s cock. Shiro licked his lips. Rolled his spine back up and rubbed against the pole. Let out a soft moan as cool metal met heated flesh. The audience groaned along with him.

The song ended some thirty seconds later, with Shiro’s thumb hooked in one of the straps of the thong and the silky fabric sticking wet against his hard cock. He winked at the audience and sauntered off stage to cheers and groans and pleas to return.

“You always rile them up,” Kinkade said from just off stage, holding a water bottle and a small towel. Shiro grinned, bumping his shoulder into Kinkade’s as he leaned against the wall and gulped down the water. He was so warm. Kinkade raised a brow. “Something get you going tonight?”

“Maybe,” Shiro said, winking. Kinkade snorted. Shiro dropped his forehead against Kinkade’s shoulder. “That hot farmer's back.”

Kinkade chuckled. “Ah. Dressing room later?”

“Please.”

Chucking Shiro under the chin, Kinkade tossed him the towel and made his way on stage as the music shifted and his stage name was called. Shiro sipped at his water, towel slung over his shoulder and heat still curling wicked through his blood. He had a stunning view from where he currently was, of both Kinkade’s dancing, and Keith watching from the shadows.

Kinkade’s routine was sultry and slow, a play on light and shadow that drew in the audience and left them mesmerized and desperate. He was sleek, dangerous, a quiet certainty that arched away when hands got too close. Every step was deliberate. The music was a pulse that beat beneath his feet and bent to his will. Watching Kinkade was an experience that Shiro indulged himself in mostly because of the artistry of it. Also helped that his friend was gorgeous.

While Kinkade finished off the remainder of his routine, Shiro slipped into the dressing room. The rest of the set would be centered around a cooldown period before Shiro and Kinkade ended the night with a duet. It was from the new routine, something Kinkade and Shiro had worked on for some weeks now, and the debut was bound to get some serious reactions from the audience. Energy hummed beneath Shiro’s skin. He was still hard, lost in thoughts of the routine and how it could end in a much more - adult way than what they originally had planned.

Kinkade’s song ended and Shiro rubbed at his face. Untucked the bills collected in his thong and put them with the others the stage hands had picked up when his set had ended. The walls shook with the bass of a new set, of new dancers, and Shiro braced his hands against the vanity counter.

It wasn’t long before Kinkade found him, slipping through the dressing room door with a sigh and the slight twist of the lock. Shiro caught his gaze in the mirror. Kinkade raised a brow. Shiro grinned weakly at him.

“He’s got it just as bad as you,” Kinkade said, approaching slowly. His hips swayed, the roll of a predator zeroing in on wanting prey. “Your boy barely watched my routine.”

“Pity. You’re gorgeous.” Shiro laughed when Kinkade rolled his eyes.

Pausing just behind Shiro, Kinkade said softly, “You should just ask him out. He’ll accept.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Shiro clenched his fingers against the vanity. He was still hard. Dammit. “Are you going to help a friend out?”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” Kinkade dropped a kiss on the back of Shiro’s head and smacked his ass, heading to the other side of the room to remove his shoes and the tattered remains of his shirt. “We can’t fuck before the last set.”

“Jerk me off?” Shiro suggested. Kinkade paused in the midst of removing his shirt, abs on display and nipples hard. Shiro rolled his spine, ass jutting out just so, and Kinkade quirked a smile. “Come on, it’ll calm us both down.”

Snorting, Kinkade tossed his shirt aside and approached with that same graceful gait that sent shivers down Shiro’s spine. “You thought about him during your set, huh?”

“No.” Shiro pouted, glancing away. The mirror caught his lie with a blush across his cheeks.

Kinkade tucked up behind Shiro, warm hands spreading over his shoulders and down his sides, thumbs catching in the lurid red of his thong. “Were you thinking about the lap dance?”

Shivering, Shiro leaned back against Kinkade’s chest, eyes hooded as he met Kinkade’s gaze in the mirror. “No.”

Tugging at the thong, Kinkade stretched it taunt over the heated skin of Shiro’s cock. Shiro squirmed, a whine building in his throat. The thin fabric rubbed against his hole. Kinkade tucked his foot against Shiro’s ankle, edging his thighs a bit wider, tightening the fabric of the thong in his fingers. Shiro panted. “I _didn’t_.”

“So, it wasn’t his eyes on you the entire time, hungry?” Kinkade asked, monotone. He tugged at the thong again, rubbing the fabric against Shiro’s straining dick. “It wasn’t him tenting those killer jeans? What about that gaudy hat tilted back and the way his lips parted? You really weren’t thinking about that during your set?”

“You’re a menace,” Shiro gasped, unable to move away. He didn’t _want_ to move away. He wanted Kinkade to touch him, to bring him off while he drowned in thoughts of Keith’s eyes and the wicked slash of his mouth.

“And you’re a liar. Your boy was gagging for it, fucking you with his eyes.” Kinkade paused, catching Shiro’s gaze in the mirror of the vanity. “He likes to watch.”

Oh. _Oh_. Shiro trembled, reaching back to card his fingers through Kinkade’s hair, stretching up to put himself blatantly on display. Kinkade smiled. Pressed a single kiss to the flutter of Shiro’s pulse as he ran both hands up Shiro’s side before spreading fingers wide along his trim waist. Twitching, Shiro rolled his hips enough to catch Kinkade’s dick against his ass, assisting with the beginnings of a truly impressive erection. Kinkade hummed, pupils blown and lips wet with glitter and spit.

“Look at you,” Kinkade whispered into Shiro’s ear, warm palm against the tremble of Shiro’s stomach. “So wet already. Do you think he’d like that? Watching you on the other side of the mirror while you get fucked?”

Shiro gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “We have a set.”

“Not for another hour.” Kinkade caught his jaw, thumb rubbing into the joint by his ear, and forced Shiro still. “Open your eyes. You have to put on a pretty show for him.”

Shuddering at the command, Shiro opened his eyes and focused on the sight in front of him. The contrast of Kinkade’s touch against Shiro’s hot skin had him bucking back against Kinkade’s cock. With his hair spiked back with sweat and the thong barely covering him he looked - needy. Filthy. Desperate in the best kind of way. Stained pink all over and glittering for all to see.

Kinkade rubbed his lips against the hinge of Shiro’s jaw. “What did he like before? What would he want?”

Shiro swallowed. “He - he wanted me - spread -”

Humming, Kinkade kicked Shiro’s thighs wider, forcing Shiro to arch back against him for balance. A single finger flirted with the hair under his belly button. Shiro groaned, lids fluttering. It wasn’t difficult to picture the performance, the way Keith’s gaze had gone dark, how his thighs had widened so Shiro was forced to compensate. That first brush against Keith’s clothed cock and how Shiro’s mouth filled with saliva. How now, with Shiro helpless before a mirror, Keith would smile and spread his legs, pleased.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Shiro whined. Kinkade kissed at his throat, white slash of teeth bright. The walls shook with the changing set.

“Show him what you want.” Kinkade flattened his palm, knuckles brushing Shiro’s cock, and ran his other palm up to pinch and rub at one of Shiro’s nipples. “Show him how pretty you can be.”

Panting, Shiro twisted his hips in a dirty grind, bucking against the thick cut of Kinkade’s dick. They couldn’t fuck because they had a set but _Stars_ , Shiro wanted to be spread open and begging for it, shoved down with his face against the glass while Kinkade made him scream - while Keith _watched_ from the other side of the glass, gaze burning, burning, burning, until Shiro wailed in desperation and came from being stuffed full.

Slipping his thumbs under the stretch of Shiro’s thong, Kinkade tugged it down until it was tucked just under Shiro’s balls, freeing him and putting him on display at the same time. Ground his cock hard against Shiro’s ass until the head caught on Shiro’s rim. Shiro yanked on Kinkade’s hair, his other hand still braced on the vanity edge. He was burning up. The music thumped to the rock of Kinkade’s hips against Shiro’s ass.

“He’d want you messy, yeah?” Kinkade whispered, running his nose along Shiro’s temple, words like sin pouring over Shiro’s skin. Each pinch of his fingers against Shiro’s nipple had him jerking. “He’d want you desperate and begging, edged out of your mind while you perform for him. Think we should give him that experience?”

Kinkade couldn’t mean - no, _no_ , Shiro couldn’t perform with that thought in his head, with his dick this hard and his body throbbing for release. But just the idea, performing for Keith alone, needing so much and putting it all on display through his routine, was intoxicating. Shiro ground back against Kinkade again. Wanted to ride him like the pole out on stage.

With a light chuckle, Kinkade kissed Shiro’s ear. “Let’s give him a show, yeah?”

Leaning away, Kinkade dug through a side drawer where they kept a variety of lubricants for the dancers and the routines. Sometimes, the dancers used it for something more - fun, but it wasn’t frowned upon as long as everyone cleaned up afterwards. Slamming the drawer closed with lube in hand, Kinkade slapped it into Shiro’s hand. “Get your thighs nice and wet for me.”

_Oh, Stars._

Panting, Shiro slathered as much lube on the inside of his thighs as he could, tugging at his balls once to give himself some relief. Kinkade breathed another laugh against Shiro’s trembling cheek. Kept a tight hold on the base of Shiro’s cock while he kept an eye on Shiro in the mirror, on the wet smear gleaming in the light of the dressing room. Shiro swallowed. His thighs quivered. Kinkade drew a hand down his flank before gripping his ass.

“Thighs nice and tight, Shiro.” Kinkade ground against his ass, so fucking hard and hot that Shiro’s mouth watered. “He needs to know just how good you can be.”

The praise lit through him, tightened his skin and jerked his cock. He was wound so tight. Leaking everywhere, messy, messy. His cock throbbed. Leaning back against Kinkade, Shiro tucked his thighs together, crossing his ankles and using Kinkade’s chest as a balance. Pleased, Kinkade spread Shiro’s cheeks and angled his cock down, over the tight furl of Shiro’s hole into the wet clench of his thighs.

“Oh, _oh_ ,” Shiro keened, eyes squeezing shut.

Kinkade hummed against his ear, a rumble that shivered through them both. “You like that? His hand on your dick and his cock sliding into you? He’d be a big one, wouldn’t he? Stretch you out just how you like.”

 The thick slide of a hot cock along Shiro’s perineum and against the painful draw of his balls, still tucked up by that damnable thong, was euphoric. Would it be this slow slide when Keith did it? Would Keith fuck him open filthy wide and excruciatingly slow until Shiro could taste him? Or would Keith slam in, thick and sloppy and so hot Shiro couldn’t catch his breath? He was shaking, shivering, could barely breathe against the heat sinking claws into his skin.

Kinkade cupped Shiro’s chest, skin hot against Shiro’s nipple. Holding Shiro still, Kinkade fucked through his thighs, hard, rough thrusts that mimicked what he could be doing instead if they didn’t have a set so soon. A set Keith would see, after Shiro had been wrung out and left to dry. Slapping a hand over his mouth, Shiro stared blindly at his reflection, moaning wildly the harder Kinkade fucked him.

Each slap of their thighs together echoed lewdly in the dressing room. Kinkade’s hold was tight, punishing, his fingers a ring around the base of Shiro’s throbbing cock. Sweat and lube smeared over them both. Glitter sparkled in the lights. Shiro keened wildly when Kinkade shifted enough to rub against his hole on a rough withdrawal. The mirror shone with Shiro’s wild image, with the flush of his skin and the smeared jerk of his cock, and the still red silk of his thong cutting into his thighs.

“You’re so tight,” Kinkade said on a groan. “Clenching like this. He’d take you hard and fast too, fuck you so good you’d be delirious for it. Fuck you right through into that state you love so damn much. Do you want that, Shiro?”

Sobbing, Shiro nodded, drool collecting at the edge of his palm. Keith would be so good, would fuck him so wide and full and right into that overstimulated state and beyond. His cock had bulged in his jeans when Shiro had ground down during the lap dance. His thighs had twitched wider in a demand for Shiro to ride him. Those smoldering eyes had locked with Shiro’s, lips parted on a shuddering exhale, and Shiro’s name would be so _sweet_ on those lips. Would Keith keep him strung out? Would Keith fuck him until he cried, until he was nothing but static and sensation and the sloppy stretch of his hole? Would Keith snarl his name in that rough drawl until Shiro came?

Cock jerking, calves shaking, Shiro begged for completion. His thighs clenched when Kinkade fucked in hard, cockhead catching and rubbing against Shiro’s balls just so, and his orgasm flared wild in his belly. Kinkade kept a tight hold on him. Restrained him. Shiro shook his head frantically.

A mouth against his ear, panting breath against his skin, wildfire burning in his blood. “Eyes on the mirror, Shiro. You’re putting on a pretty show for Keith, remember? Let him see you come undone.”

Keith, Keith, _Keith_. Shiro caught his devastated expression in the mirror, the dark slash of Kinkade’s eyes behind him, and a patch of plaid mixed amongst the shirts on the far wall. With a muffled scream, Shiro came. Splattered the mirror in front of him. Sullied the vanity and the slick slide of Kinkade’s fingers. Dirtied himself before a final set where Keith would be watching him with those smoldering eyes, having no idea that Shiro had come to the idea of him in the dressing room not five minutes prior.

Twisting into the fuck of Kinkade’s hand, Shiro strung out the pleasure until it was a ball of heat that kept on going. Kinkade continued to milk his orgasm out of him. It wasn’t long before Kinkade’s strokes went stuttery and vicious, shoving Shiro forward until he was bracing one hand on the mirror, smearing his come into the glass. His lips parted on a shuddery exhale. Sparks prickled his skin with each snap of Kinkade’s hips.

With a vicious groan, Kinkade came between his thighs, splattered thick ropes of come against the wet shine of Shiro’s skin and the underside of his cock.

Pulling his hand from the mirror, Shiro smeared their release into the trembling skin of his thighs. Kinkade dropped his forehead on Shiro’s shoulder. “Holy shit.”

“And you thought fucking me would mess up the routine,” Shiro said tiredly, grinning when Kinkade glared with one eye. “Mmm, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, you big slut,” Kinkade said affectionately, smacking a kiss against Shiro’s throat. “Next time, let’s just fuck at my place.”

Shiro chuckled, carefully uncrossing his ankles with a groan. The mark of Kinkade’s release was all over his skin, dripping in hot streaks that made his cock jerk. Shiro shuddered. Lube mixed with jizz and glitter. “Well, that’s going to be a bitch to get out.”

“You’ve had worse on you.” Kinkade straightened, stretching his arms up high until his back popped. He was stunningly sweaty, the shadow of his cock still wet with his release. Shiro contemplated assisting with the cleanup, running his fingers along the sticky head of Kinkade’s dick. Kinkade raised a brow, humming low in his chest as Shiro dropped a kiss on his nose with a dopey smile, thumb wet and a promise in the bow of his lips.

The duet at the end of the night was a success. Keith’s eyes never left Shiro, that possessive, smoldering want lighting up Shiro’s spine every time their eyes met. When Shiro had paused in a difficult arch on the bar, he caught Keith shifting his thighs wide, palm cupping the bulge in his jeans and lips parted on a shuddery exhale. It had nearly undone him. By the time the club closed and Shiro got home, it had taken nothing for Shiro to drag Kinkade into his bedroom. Took even less for him to ride Kinkade until they were both swearing, until Kinkade flipped him over and pounded him into incoherence, wailing into the night.

If Keith kept this up, Shiro was going to be a puddle in Kinkade’s bed until he got over his stupid crush.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on[ my nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/assinan13?s=09) where I'm basically in Voltron hell all the time and loving it


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